Children never shut the door

 

Children never shut the door

except when they slam it.
Muddy-paw dogs run through the house.
A dove lost, confused, flaps against the skylight.
From the turkey in the oven we hear
spits and gurgles. No gobbles.

In broad daylight Uncle Olaf and Aunt Gerta
strip to skivvies and soak in the hot tub.
The children join them.
The dogs want. We say NO!
They ignore us and jump in.
Then out. Then shake.

Grampa and his girlfriend Jennifer arrive
on a two-seater bicycle from fifteen miles away.
Grampa is eighty and has no hair.
Jennifer hugs everybody, especially the dogs.
We smile. We bring towels.

Uncle Simon on a stepladder catches
the dove in a hanky. We all make calming
coo-coo-coo sounds as he carries it gently,
so gently outside. Opens the hanky.
The dove flies to the nearest tree. Clutches
a branch. Head-bobs toward us. Thankful.

Now let’s hold hands around the table,
close our eyes. Squeeze (gently)
the hand you’re holding.
Let go, like a dove.
Amen.

……

First published in New Verse News
photo by Molnar Szabolcs Erdely